Semper Invictus
by SnappleAddict
Summary: Having avoided conflict with the Romulans, the USS Pioneer continues on her course to apprehend Thomas Kale. However the situation is far worse then anyone could have imagined, and the crew must blend in with the locals. And, you know, review is good.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I: Into the Unknown

Stardate 59342.7 26 September 2381, 11:00

"Admiral Kelly?" Lt. Jo Anna Trapp's cheerful voice burst from Frederick Kelly's office comm. "Capt. Nevala is here to see you."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Send her in, please."

The door to the Commander, Starfleet's slid open, revealing a Vulcan woman in the uniform of a Starfleet Intelligence officer. Her black hair was cut in a traditional Vulcan style, and her uniform was immaculately pristine. She stood what a human would call at ridged attention, but what Vulcans considered 'relaxed'.

"Come in, come in, Lieutenant. Pull up a chair," Kelly offered.

"Thank you sir. I am fine standing."

"That's up to you, Capt. Nevala, but this will probably be the last rest you'll get in a while. I'm not going to waste any of your time with formalities. This is going to sound odd, but Starfleet is sending you on a retrieval mission."

Nevala arched her eyebrow. "Retrieval of what, sir?"

"Not what," Kelly said, calling up several pictures on a viewscreen behind him. The first one was a Starfleet launching ceremony. He called up seven of the officers on the screen and blew their portraits up on the side. "Who. This is the original crew of the _USS Undaunted_ NCC-6408. Do you know the story of the _Undaunted_, Lieutenant?"

"I am not familiar, Admiral."

"Mmm. The _Undaunted_ was a Sabre-class. She had a good record during the Dominion War, but most of the crew was killed in battle. The _Undaunted _was ordered on patrol at the end of the war, near the Romulan Neutral zone. She ended up patrolling Neutral Zone for three years after the war ended because their long range comm had been destroyed and they were ordered there under radio silence."

"Her Captain was one Lt. Commander Thomas J. Kale. The Starfleet Psyche-Eval reports said the isolation caused him to loose his mind. The _Undaunted_ crossed several thousand kilometers into the Neutral Zone and engaged a _D'deridex_-class warbird. During the fighting, the Romulans beamed a boarding party over to the _Undaunted_. They were subdued and Kale ordered the execution of the surviving prisoners. He managed to get some lucky hits in on the warbird and fled to Starbase 178. Three Romulan crewmen were killed in the attack, and five more wounded."

"Kale was arrested for war crimes, tried and convicted. However, his tactical officer rallied the crew, and they freed him from prison. Security pursued them, but Kale and his men managed to slip aboard a runabout that docked with the newly commissioned _Akira_-class cruiser _USS Remembrance_. He must have organized this before his arrest, because six other ships were seized by Neo-Terra Prime operatives. Kale, the ships, and almost all 850,000 members of the NTP movement fled towards Delta Serpentis. We tracked them there, but they changed directions so many times, that the pursuing ships lost them. Most of his followers we believe were killed by Kale himself. The pursuing ships found several tons of debris in the Delta Serpentis system, consistent with the tonnage of the ships he 'appropriated'."

"A very interesting story, Admiral. Am I to understand that Section 31 has discovered Mr. Kale's whereabouts?" Nevala asked.

"Very perceptive, as always, Captain. We think that they may be in the Iconia system. A Romulan patrol picked up some faint sub-warp transmissions," Kelly pressed a button on his desk, and a garbled voice began looping back through tiny speakers. Most of the loop didn't make any sense, but Nevala's heightened Vulcan hearing picked up what sounded like 'Kale', 'construction' and '_Akira-_class'. "But they didn't investigate any further than that. We sent a scout to search the area six weeks ago, but we haven't heard from them since. Your primary objective is to locate and apprehend Lt. Cmdr. Kale. Any members of his crew that you happen across will also be targets, but if we can get Kale, then they'll come to us. Starfleet Command would also like to know what happened to the _USS Sicily, _the scout shipHere's everything you need to know to complete the mission. Look it over," Kelly said, handing her a PADD. "We do understand that Kale is extremely xenophobic and well armed. To this end, we have assigned you the _USS Pioneer_ and two _Curry_-class ships, the _Trailblazer_ and the _Spirit of Mars_ to escort you to the Neutral Zone. They will be under your command for the duration."

Kelly extended his hand. Despite all the years her people had worked among humans, the physical contact still bothered them. "Good luck, Captain. I expect nothing but the utmost competency from you."

Nevala nodded politely, accepting the handshake. "Yes, sir."

Stardate 59342.86 12:28, on board_ Intrepid-_class_ USS Pioneer_.

The _Pioneer_ entered warp shortly after passing past Jupiter station. The trip to the Neutral Zone would take some time, so Nevala turned the bridge over to her first officer, an Andorian named Shenar and retired to her quarters to read up on the _Undaunted_. Nevala sat on her bed as she read, learning all Starfleet had on the subject.

Thomas Kale, the Captain of the ship, was 26 when he went rogue, young even for a human to commanding a starship. He would have been perfect for a 20th century Earth military recruiting poster; square-jawed and straight-backed, with a brown crew cut and serious-looking brown eyes. His record showed outstanding discipline, but Kale's commanding officers all noted that he was often had an overzealous and single-minded approach to problem solving.

His Tactical Officer, Daniel Clarke, was from the area of Earth known as Whales. He and Kale had been stationed together previously, and the reports strongly suggested that he was Kale's closest confidant. Clarke's mind for ship-to-ship combat had been called brilliant, by some. Nevala was certainly impressed by his maneuvers during the Battle of Cardassia, which allowed a small group of _Sabre_s to destroy several Dominion capital ships.

The _Undaunted'_s chief engineer was Chief Petty Officer 1st Class Gabriel Nelson. She didn't stand out as an exceptional engineer, or a terribly incompetent one. Nelson's instructors had noted her for her ability to quickly adapt and solve various technical issues, but she had never done anything outstanding with it.

Lt. Fred Volkert, and Ensigns Roland Johnson and Kirsten Friedmont were the communications , helm, and navigation officers, respectively. The _Undaunted _was their first assignment. All five of them were fiercely loyal to Lt. Cmdr. Kale, and had attacked and freed him from the Federation jail where he was being held. They also freed Sgt. Brendan O'Malley, a Federation Marine who had been the actual one to execute the Romulan prisoners. O'Malley had been involved in several boarding actions and would be the hardest to get to surrender.

Nevala had a plan, though, to capture her quarry without much confrontation. _Intrepid_-class ships had much longer ranges than _Akira_s. The bridge would announce that they had found the _Remembrance_, at which point she and a small team of specialists would infiltrate Kale's ship. After gaining the fugitive's trust, Nevala and her people would incapacitate their assigned targets, tag them with emergency transporter bands, and beam back to the _Pioneer_. She couldn't just attack with her _Curry_s, because there was a high probability that Kale would just warp away before the cruiser escorts could pierce his shields and knock out the nacelles.

Only human crewmen on this mission, excluding her. With some cosmetic surgery, Nevala could pass for human, unless she was under close scrutiny. Even though he had fled Earth with a small crew complement, Kale's stolen _Akira_ would need a significantly larger crew to operate it. Nevala's team should have no problem blending in.

She didn't know how exactly they would get on board the _Remembrance yet_, but her idea was rapidly solidifying into a plan. Capt. Nevala sat down and meditated, awaiting the sound of her number one announcing that they had found the rouge officer.

Stardate 59344.7 27 September 2381, 04:13

Commander Shenar had been the first officer of the _USS Pioneer_ for many, many years. He had seen a lot of strange things, and had been in some, as the Crewman Doohan would say, 'hairy sitchy-ations'. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when the _Pioneer_ crossed the Neutral Zone threshold and a hail of plasma torpedoes didn't vaporize the light cruiser. The three Federation ships had just passed through one of the most avoided regions of space without a hitch.

"Lieutenant Chen, adjust heading 43 mark zero 1," Shenar ordered. This would put them on a direct line to the mysterious Iconian system.

"Aye, sir. Adjusting now," Lt. Chen replied. The stars on the viewscreen seemed to rotate as the ship changed her course.

Shenar shifted in his seat, antennae twitching slightly in boredom. He personally hated going off on a wild goose chase, and would much prefer to be exploring a nebula somewhere, or taking samples from a comet. Something at least _useful_.

Minutes, then hours slipped by as the three Federation ships sailed through space, looking for the probably non-existent _Remembrance_. Shenar almost dozed off in his command chair before Lt. Mattis, the on-duty science officer, announced that there was several tons of debris 60 kilometers off starboard bow.

"Can you identify it, lieutenant?"

"Not exactly, sir," Mattis replied. "Not unless we get closer."

"Helm," Shenar barked. "Course change. Lock a heading for those debris. Take us to 6500 meters."

"Aye, sir. 6500 meters."

"I can't be certain, Commander," Mattis said, studying his instruments. "But it looks like the profile of two Romulan interceptors."

"Any idea of what did that to them, Lt. Mattis?"

Mattis turned back to his panel, examining the readouts from a more thorough scan. "No phaser or disruptor scoring. It would seem that the damage was caused by the impact of numerous projectiles. Perhaps they got caught in an intense micro-meteor shower, sir?"

Shenar considered the science officer's suggestion. It made sense; there was no residual energy to the pieces of ship that were floating around in vacuum. Still, it wasn't like the Romulans to get caught with their pants down like that.

Something was bothering the Andorian commander about this. Shenar couldn't put his finger on it, but there was definitely something wrong. He looked closer at the sensor readings.

"What do you make of this, Lt. Evens?"

The tactical officer tilted his head as he ran the data up and down his console. Evens was an experienced weapons analyst. His brows furrowed as he drew a conclusion, one he didn't make lightly.

"I think somebody attacked these ships, sir. With projectile weaponry."

It was all Evens could do to keep his face from burning read as the bridge crew guffawed at his suggestion. Nobody fought with projectiles anymore. They were relics, ancient history. Cmdr. Shenar however, crossed his arms.

"What is the basis for your opinion, Lt.?"

"Here, sir. There's a large fragment of nacelle plating with almost identical holes punched in it." Evens brought up his personal weapons database, highlighting a large bullet. "The impact and damage are closest matched to a 20 millimeter round."

"Good work. Both of you. Hoffman, have did the Romulan government report any ships killed in by micro-meteorites before we left Sol?" The comm officer put his finger on his chin in thought.

"I believe so, sir. A wing of interceptors went missing nine days ago. The searching vessel said they were hit by micros."

"A wing is four ships. Hmm... Alright. I'm going to take this up with the Captain. Lt. Cmdr. Suarez, you have the bridge. Look for the other two, but remember we have a schedule to keep."

"Yes, sir," the second officer said.

Commander Shenar entered the bridge's turbolift, riding it down to Deck 3, which housed the chiefs and commanding officers of the _Pioneer._ He navigated his way to the Captain's quarters. Shenar buzzed the door, then entered on the Captain's command.

"Is there something you need, Commander?" Nevala asked. She was meditating, eyes closed and legs crossed.

"Yes, ma'am. We found the wreckage of two Romulan interceptors. The Romulan government said that they were destroyed in a micro-meteor shower, but Lt. Evens believes that they were attacked by a ship using projectile weapons."

Nevala's eyes snapped open. She got up from her meditation mat and looked hard at her first officer. "Projectile weapons?"

"That's right, Captain. I know it sounds ridiculous, but so does a starship being destroyed by rocks."

Actually it didn't sound ridiculous at all. Nevala's information said that Cmdr. Kale had pushed for the armament of anti-Borg ships to include high powered auto-cannons. Despite evidence that the Borg had no means of deploying a kinetic shield of any kind, his proposal had been turned down in favor of pulse phaser cannons, which negated the production of ammunition and the dealing with the by-products of spent casings. If Kale had been developing auto-cannons to add to the _Remembrance_'s arsenal...

"Mattis to the Captain," Mattis' voice chirped from Nevala's comm-badge.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"More bad news I'm afraid, ma'am. We're not reading any remnants of a destroyed cloaking device."

"You don't think...," Shenar started, but Nevala cut him off.

"Yes, Commander. I think that whoever attacked the Romulan ships has indeed stolen the cloaking device.

27 September 2381, at that same moment

Commander Leslie Franklin, C.O. of the Colonial Terran Authority destroyer CTD _Maverick_, formerly _Remembrance_, watched passively from his stealth shuttle as the Federation vessels came to a stop near the destroyed Romulan ships. Normally scouts relied on minimal warp signatures and low sensor profiles to avoid detection, but the newly acquired cloaks that the CTA had 'liberated' from their enemies had made Franklin's job even easier.

He was almost tempted to call the _Maverick _in when his piggyback spy suite had informed him that the Federation officers were on to the real demise of the interceptors, but Franklin calmed himself, and continued his surveillance.

The Federation battlegroup consisted of one _Intrepid_-class light cruiser and two _Curry_-class cruiser escorts, as designated by the updated CTA Starship Classification Chart. Their armaments were standard Starfleet issue, four Type-X phaser arrays per ship. Well. At least they didn't send a full battlegroup. This seemed to be little more than a reconnaissance-in-force.

"Commander Franklin. Report back to the _Maverick_. The attack is about to begin," his 1st officer said from the comm panel.

"Rodger that, _Maverick_. ETA six minutes."

Franklin simultaneously powered up his warp drive and lowered the cloak that shrouded his shuttle. As the ship slipped into warp, Franklin smiled mischievously. The galaxy didn't know what was going to hit it.

"Captain to the bridge!" Suarez barked into his comm-badge. "Helm, track that ship!"

"It's...damn. It warped out sir. Last heading was for the Alpha Onias system."

The communications officer, Ensign Hoffman, looked up from his LCARS panel. "Sir, I'm getting a lot of comm traffic from the Romulan starbase in that system. Not all of it is on the Romulan comm bands."

"Put it on, Ensign," Captain Nevala said, sweeping onto the bridge.

Hoffman pushed a few buttons and a distressed Romulan voice frantically gave orders to unknown ships.

"_All ships form a defensive ring inside the station's battery perimeter. They're coming around for another pass!_"

"_This is the O'Dex! We're venting atmosphere, and have breaches on every deck!"_

"_Two warbirds just went down! We've lost the last of our _Shrike _covers."_

"_Any allied ships in the area, please converge on Starbase R-827. We are under attack from a large force of pirates. They're using...they've boarded us! Take him down, take him...my gods! They're juggernaughts! They're not...!_"

There was a high-pitched whining and what sounded like screaming. Hoffman shook his head. That was all of the transmission.

"The Romulans kept saying 'they, they, they.' Do we know who 'they' are, Lt. Cmdr. Suarez?" Nevala asked.

"No, ma'am. It could be the Maquis."

"Or it could be Kale. Plot a course, helm. We're going to get to the bottom of this.

A/N: So, this is it. Ch. 2 is underway, and unlike my other fics, near completion, and it WILL be finished. So you know, review, tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II: Discoveries

Stardate 59344.7 27 September 2381, 04:59, bridge, USS _Pioneer_

There was very little left of what should have been a formidable outpost in Alpha Onias. Hulks of destroyed vessels, many of them top of the line Romulan warships, littered the area surrounding the lifeless R-827 starbase. There were faint emissions coming from the base, from a ship that appeared intact and docked to her. Nevala ordered a joint boarding operation, comprised of security and technicians from all three ships under her command. They would board and search the station, download its logs, then search for any survivors.

Nevala debated whether or not to lead the away team from her ship. On one hand, it could booster her command's confidence in her and prove the young Vulcan a capable leader. On the other, she could be killed and the entire mission scrapped. She weighed both choices with cold logic, and retrieved a phaser an EVA suit from the quartermaster.

Her away team was slightly surprised to see her. Commander Shenar tried to protest the Captain's involvement in the search.

"Ma'am, this mission represents a great risk to your safety. As per Starfleet regs, the first officer is to lead any away mission of such importance to prevent a loss that would cripple the ship's effectiveness," Shenar argued.

"I am aware of those regulations, Commander. However, sub-section B of those same regulations permit the Captain to lead the away team in an emergency situation or some other such crisis as he or she sees fit. I believe that current events fulfil those requirements."

Shenar narrowed his eyes. He knew of that particular section, but most captains he had served under had never chosen to invoke it. It was both worrisome and gratifying that this new one did.

"Very well, Captain," he said, stepping off the transporter platform.

Nevala took his place and sealed her helmet to her suit. Extra-Vehicular Activity suits were designed for use in vacuum, with a self-contained oxygen supply and magnetic boots for walking in zero-g.

The other members of her away team were Lt. Stasitsky, a computer technician, Ensign Vanderman from engineering, and three security officers. The security were armed with compression rifles while the rest of the away team had standard-issue type-II hand phasers on minimum kill setting. It was better safe than sorry in this situation.

Nevala closed her eyes as she felt the gentle ripple of the transporter taking her every molecule apart and whisking it to the hulk of the Romulan station. When the Vulcan Intelligence Officer re-opened her eyes, she had to turn on her suit's spot lamps to see.

"Main power's down, Captain," Vanderman observed from his tricorder. "Looks like the station's generators."

"_Captain, this is Lt. Clay from the _Trailblazer_. We've transported over okay, and are proceeding to the port aft landing bay," _one of the _Trailblazer_'s crew said, checking in.

"_Lt. Romenov from the _Spirt of Mars_. We're three decks above you, Capt. Nevala. Fanning out to look for survivors. Doesn't look likely, though ma'am._"

Nevala wasn't with Lt. Romenov, but she knew where he was coming from. She looked around, spot lamps illuminating the corpses of dead Romulan soldiers. One, directly in front of her, had been decapitated by a closing bulkhead.

"Understood, Lieutenant. However, continue your search."

"_Aye ma'am."_

"Bridge is...this way," Vanderman said turning and facing an unlit corridor. Nevala and her team followed him. The security officers warily surveyed the surroundings, rifles wandering with their eyes.

They reached the end of the corridor, impeded by a powerless turbo lift. Crewman Capella, a security man, and Lt. Stasitsky pried the doors apart. In addition to being unpowered dead weight, the controls to operate the lift manually were blown out.

"Is there another way to the bridge?" Stasitsky asked.

Vanderman bit his lip and shook his head. "Nope. It's all blocked off by vaccuum and radiation. This is the only safe way up."

"Safe is a subjective term, I should think," Capella muttered, adjusting his rifle's sling.

"Then it would appear that we are going to have to climb," Nevala said, entering the turbo lift and removing the access hatch from the top. It was a tight squeeze, even without the bulky EVA suit. With it, the Vulcan barely managed to slide herself through the access way. Lt. Stasitsky, being a human female, was also slender enough to fit through the opening. The others looked on, frustrated.

"I think I have a solution, Captain," Stasitsky said. She had shoulder length blonde hair, but eliminated the dumb blonde stereotype day in and day out. "Since the power for this part of the station is out, there won't be any electromagnets to hold the turbolift in place if we disable the emergency brakes."

"A logical solution," Nevala said, bending to activate her boot magnets. Slowly, she and Stasitsky attached themselves to the wall and drew their phasers from their holsters.

"Based on my previous scans of Romulan metallurgy, I believe setting 9 would be most effective."

"Right," Stasitsky said, adjusting her phaser. She and Nevala took aim and fired. It took several seconds, but the high-powered energy beams burned through the locking mechanisms securing the turbolift. "Two down, six to go."

Eventually, the last break had been melted, and the turbolift car sank like a stone down its shaft. The rest of the away team clambered up to Nevala and Stasitsky with their mag-boots, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

"_Romenov to Nevala_," a voice choked over the mission's communications frequency. Romenov sounded extremely distressed.

"Nevala here, Lieutenant."

"_Ma'am I...oh God. There's bodies ma'am. Dozens of them._"

Nevala was confused for a moment. "That is obvious, Lt. Romenov. The station was under attack."

"_No, you don't understand, Captain! They're piled up like firewood, and there's...there's blood everywhere!_" There was a retching noise that Nevala took to be someone throwing up inside their suit.

"Lieutenant, listen to me," Nevala said slowly. We know there was a boarding party. We know they were and still are hostile."

"_But, what kind of weapons do this? Even distruptors cauterize the wounds..._"

* * *

27 September 2381, 05:22. On board Romulan Starbase R-827

"But, what kind of weapons do this? Even distruptors cauterize the wounds..." Lt. Walter Romenov wondered. He tried to pull his eyes from the disturbing sight but couldn't. The entire deck he and his team now stood on was drenched in the Romulans' green blood. Deep down, he knew he wanted to know what kind of _being_ would slaughter people like this, not the actual weapon used.

Ensign Pritchett, the leader of the security detail for this mission, put his hands on Romenov's shoulders and shook him roughly.

"Get a grip, el-tee. Now's not the time for a weak-stomach. You too!" Pritchett near barked at Crewman Richards. The pale-faced medical technician was trying to clear vomit from the inside of his suit. "There now. You've got a grip? We have a job to do."

Romenov took a deep breath and nodded. He looked back at his tricorder in the futile hope that he would see the blip of a lifesign. No such luck.

The SAR team continued to spread out, taking branching corridors and Romenov found himself alone after a few minutes. The lieutenant tried to breathe evenly and stay calm, but he saw something lurking in every shadow. Romenov almost jumped out of his skin when his suit's communicator beeped. The tricorder he had been holding dropped the floor.

"Jesus. Go ahead," Romenov said.

"_Sir, this is Crewman Stackhouse. I'm in some kind of observation booth overlooking the shuttlebay._"

Romenov sighed, perhaps a little dramatically, but Stackhouse's sighting of Lt. Clay's assigned area was nothing of importance. "Crewman, I don't care if you see Clay's team slacking off. We're looking for survivors."

"_Well that's just it, el-tee. The bay is deserted. There's a Federation shuttle in here, though. I don't think the boarding party has left yet._"

"Feder..? Crewman, can you see the registry number on the shuttle?!?"

"_Yes, sir. Let's see, its, ah, NCC-7416–Hrk!_"

"Crewman! What's the last digit? Stackhouse?"

There was no reply from the other end of line. Romenov stooped to pick up his tricorder and readjusted it so it read only human lifesigns. To his relief, the overlay of the shuttlebay showed one dot in the observation booth. However, Stackhouse had been correct when he said that no one else had been with him. In fact, Romenov wasn't picking up the _Trailblazer_ team anywhere around him.

"NCC-7416," Romenov repeated. The _USS Remembrance_ had been NCC-74168, and he didn't know of any UFP ships operating in the area. But even if Lt. Cmdr. Kale hadn't destroyed all the vessels he had, he would have had only two _Prometheus_-class ships, a _Nebula_, and three _Intrepid_s. Formidable, sure, but not enough to take on a dozen warbirds and a plethora of smaller ships. So confusing.

"_Aghh–!"_

Romenov's hand immediately went to his phaser, doing his best to keep his eyes on the area ahead of him while he checked the tricorder. One life sign advancing towards him from the observation booth, probably Stackhouse, and one where Richards should be, and one where Pritchett should be, and three where Crewman Reynolds should be.

"Three?" Romenov whispered. His eyes widened and Romenov opened on all channels. "Everybody, rally back at the transporter point! We are not alone, repeat NOT alone!"

Even as he said this, the dot representing Reynolds winked out, and the two unknowns began to move back the way Reynolds had come from. Back towards _him_.

"Lt.? What the hell?!?" Pritchett asked.

"Ensign, that is an order! Reynolds is dead, and so is Stackhouse!" Romenov replied as he sprinted towards the TP. The Federation officer paused only to check his tricorder for movement. He stopped. Ensign Prichett's dot had disappeared, while the unknowns quickly moved to trap Romenov. He was surrounded.

One of the unknowns revealed itself briefly, stepping out from where Pritchett had gone. The figure was bulky, wearing some kind of armored EVA suit. A long, boxy attachment jutted out from under its forearm. The armor-clad being raised the device just as Romenov snapped his phaser up and fired.

The beam should have been lethal to a carbon-based lifeform, even in a armored vacuum suit. However the energy washed over the figure without effect. Romenov could only wonder what the armor was made out of as hundreds of steel needles punched through his cut and sawed Romenov in half.

05:41, Romulan base R-827

"Jeez, what a mess. What'd they do, knock the place over?" Capella remarked as he climbed up from the turbolift shaft.

The bridge was indeed in shambles. Loose wiring formed near impenetrable webs of modern engineering, and there was scoring from exploding circuits. Also, oddly enough, several complete consoles and other equipment appeared to have been removed, hence Capella's comment. Stasitsky and Vanderman took stations at two semi-functioning computer terminals.

"I don't think we'll get much out of this, Captain," Stasitsky warned. "It's pretty banged up."

"Ma'am, got a fragment of a visual log before the recorders went offline," Vanderman announced.

"Onscreen," she ordered.

The Romulan viewscreen crackled to life. The images were hazy, but Nevala saw a very non-Romulan ship being attacked by two _Shrike_ light cruisers. As the camera zoomed in, the ship clarified into an _Akira_. The ship didn't seem to be firing any weapons, although the _Shrike_s' shields were flaring and the ships were reporting that they were rapidly degrading. The lead _Shrike's_ shields dropped, and two photon torpedoes streaked from the _Akria_ and obliterated it. It's sister followed shortly after.

"_The Federation ship must be equipped with a Breen ED device. All ships, engage with torpedoes from maximum range,_" the base commander ordered.

Unfortunately for the Romulans, a plasma torpedoe's energy field destabilized after only a few light-minutes, and the _Akira_ merely sat outside the effective range of the torps, using her strange weapon and finishing the shield-less ships off with her own missiles. Once the defenses had been considerably thinned, the ship began to swoop in, blasting the defenders apart with ease. The clip ended with the _Akria_ almost dead center on the screen, two photon torpedoes coming at the screen like the eyes of some evil wraith.

"Lieutenant, could you please rewind the video minus four seconds?" Nevala asked, studying the ship intently. If she looked close enough, the captain could just make out the name and registry of the ship. "Good. Clarify the image."

Stasitsky hesitantly tapped a few commands into the Romulan-analog LCARS. The image was pixilated for a few seconds, then reformed into a much sharper view of the _CTD Maverick_ (NCC-74168).

"CTD?" Vanderman asked, scratching his head. "What's that mean?"

"I am not familiar with that designator, Ensign. I will check with records when we return, however. Download everything you can and return to the beam in point."

"Captain," Crewman Walker said, leaning over the open turbolift shaft. "There's somebody down by the lift. It doesn't look like—"

Walker was cut off as something shattered his helmet's faceplate. He fell back, blood bubbling out of the hole. Capella pulled him back, then joined the remaining security crewman Hawkings in filling the interior of the shaft with phaser blasts.

Capella ducked back apparently just in time. There was a flurry sparks as Walker's murderer steadily hosed the opening.

"He appears to have mag boots, Captain," Capella said, risking a peek in the shaft. "Everyone, quick! We need to form a barricade. Whatever this raider is, he's wearing some serious armor. Dial your phasers up as high as they'll go. Vaporizing him is our only option."

"Belay that," Nevala said. The away team had already piled several pieces of bulkhead, deck, and other parts of the station together, forming a hasty breastwork.

"But, ma'am! I saw that guy take several direct hits without flinching. And that big weapon of his throws out a lot of whatever that thing is loaded with."

"Precisely, Crewman," Nevala said as she crouched behind the barricade. We will need an intact specimen to tell us who and what exactly we are dealing with."

"Here he comes," Hawkings warned.

"Change your rifles to 'beam'. Setting ten. All armor is weakest at the joints, I suggest firing at it's solar plexus."

Even as the Vulcan said this, the huge figure clambered out of the hole into the staggering combined fire of two compression rifles and three phasers. Despite this, the armored man struggled to bring his weapon to bear. He loosed a torrent of projectiles that literally blew Ensign Vanderman's torso apart and ripped Hawking's right arm off at the shoulder. He clutched the leaking hole in his suit, screaming.

The Federation team's fire was not ineffective, though. Only delayed. The armor at the creature's mid-section was indeed weaker than the rest of the suit. He jerked as the powerful streams of energy pierced it and killed him. Instead of collapsing, the sheer bulk of the armor and the magnetic grip of his boots held him upright.

"He's as big as an Orion on steroids," Capella said as Stasitsky bandaged Hawkings. He poked the juggernaut with his rifle. "Yep. I don't think he's walking away from this one."

"I believe he is a member of Kale's crew," Nevala said as she also moved closer to get a better look at the what she was beginning to think of as the Juggernaut. The armored vacuum suit he wore was dull grey, complete with a face-obscuring helmet. A long monocular extended from where his right eye would have been, reminiscent of the Borg. The left breast had a human fist wielding a dagger, with a star filled background, all contained in an upside-down triangle. Under this, 'CMC' was stamped in blocky lettering. Most curious was an inscription on the Juggernaut's helmet: "The difference between me and you is that at the end of the battle, I'll still be alive."

"Captain, I have everything I'm going to get from this station's computer. I suggest that we leave immediately," Stasitsky said, holding up a PADD. Nevala triggered her comm-badge.

"Nevala to transporter room. Lock onto our position and beam back away team plus one."

"_Plus one, ma'am?"_

"Correct. There is a possible lead regarding our mission, and I need him aboard for information. Beam our guest, Crewmen Hawkings and Vanderman directly to Sickbay."

"_Aye, ma'am_._ We sure are glad you're still alive. The bodies of the other two away teams were beamed back to their ships a few minutes ago. Okay, transporting now._"

Two blue beams seemed to spill from nowhere, enveloping the two crewmen and transporting their atoms to the _Pioneer_. There was a somber silence as the three survivors waited for their turn.

"_Ready to transport team," _The transporter room announced. Nevala felt the 'tingle' sensation as the transporter chief found her and teleported them back to the ship. As soon as she felt solid polymer under her feet, Nevala ordered Stasitsky to throughly analyze the data they had recovered. Then she headed for Sickbay.

Dr. Connors was wiping his face with a rag when Nevala stepped through Sickbay's sliding doors. He turned to her, pale faced.

"Captain, I don't know what to make of this...this...well it used to be a man."

"Explain."

"He's human," Connors said. "That's what my scans say. I can't be certain until I remove him from the armor, but our friend appears to be 2.1 meters 6 foot 9, roughly tall, 230 pounds, and from the condensed muscle tissue, raised or spending a lot of time in high gravity . Physically, he's probably twice as strong as a Klingon. Height is unnatural, done through post-pubescent augmentation."

"The armor appears to be composed of cortenide and laminated with tritanium. That's probably why your weapons had such a hard time penetrating it. It weighs an additional 136 pounds, and from what I can see, it's NOT powered in any way. To tell you anything more, I'm going to need to cut this guy out. Probably go through three blades with a sonic saw just to do that," Connors finished, hands on his hips.

"Inform me when you have finished removing him. Doctor, is it alright if I remove this weapon from his arm? I would like to take it down to the Armory and have them examine it."

"Be careful, it's quite heavy."

The Juggernaut's weapon was bound to his right gauntlet by two adjustable metal loops. Two buttons in-between them seemed to control the tightening and loosening. Nevala tried left button first, and pleasantly enough the armbands widened, allowing her to slip it off. Connors was right about the weight. Even with her superior Vulcan strength, Nevala had a hard time lifting it. As she hefted it to the turbolift, passing crew stared bug-eyed at the lethal device.

Lt. Evens, the tactical officer, and an armory crewman were the only ones on duty when Nevala dropped the Juggernaut's weapon on a workbench. Both of them looked at it for several seconds, then directed their stares towards their Captain.

"This was taken from the body of the unknown ships boarding party. It doesn't appear to be a disruptor or a phaser, or any other kind of energy weapon."

Evens examined it. He found a control on the top that detached most of the body of the weapon. Evens revealed it to be an ammunition drum. He pulled a wicked looking metal spike from the drum and whistled.

"No casing. Heavy stuff. I'll contact you when I know more, Captain." Just then, the bridge signaled her over her comm-badge.

"Captain, before the Romulans were killed, I believe they sent out a distress signal."

"That is highly probable, Commander Shenar. They _were_ being butchered."

"Well, Captain. The Romulans got it. Four _Valdore_-class warbirds just de-cloaked to our aft. They are demanding that we surrender."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III: The Colonial Terran Authority

Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 06:21, Bridge of _USS Pioneer_

"Status," Nevala ordered stepping off the turbolift. Commander Shenar turned to face her.

"The warbirds are holding their position. We've turned about on yellow alert. I feel that I should mention that our _Curry_s have taken up excellent bombardment positions above the warbirds' cone of fire."

"We are here to apprehend Kale, Commander, not start another interstellar incident. Lower shields and invite the Romulan captain aboard for a full explanation. With my best wishes, of course."

"Right away, ma'am," Shenar said. "Mr. Hoffman, you have an invitation to send."

Hoffman traded looks with his fellow bridge crew, but sent the message anyway. Moments later, an infuriated-looking Romulan captain appeared on the viewscreen. He said he was Captain Pa'tel, the commander of the IRW _P'Tarma_, and that the Federation risked incurring his full wrath by insulting him with false explanations after obliterating a Starbase and all its ships, and once more demanded that they surrender.

"Captain Pa'tel, this is Captain Nevala of the _USS Pioneer_. Please consider the situation. How could one light cruiser and two escorts overpower the mighty Romulan Star Empire's ship garrison and her starbase, all without incurring any damage?" He didn't respond. "Captain?"

"It is...extremely unlikely," Pa'tel grudgingly admitted.

"Indeed, it is. However, to understand the whole, 'situation', you must come aboard the _Pioneer_. There is someone I think you will find of interest. You may bring a complement of guards if it would put you at ease."

"You can rest assured I will. Pa'tel out."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 06:32, Transporter Room 2

Nevala waited for Pa'tel and his entourage to beam aboard. In true paranoid Romulan style, two armed Reman soldiers were the first ones to be transported to the _Pioneer_. Glancing around the at the four crew members present, (Capt. Nevala, Crewman Capella, and two transporter techs), the Remans seemed to be satisfied that they were unarmed. One of them snarled into his communicator, and stepped off the transporter pad.

Pa'tel, flanked by four Romulan soldiers, made his appearance on the Federation ship. He was a slightly overweight being, with trademark black Romulan hair, and the beginnings of a beard. He scowled at Nevala as he and his entourage moved forward.

"Well, Captain," he said, spreading his arms. "Here we are. Now maybe you'd like to tell me who exactly destroyed our base so I can report to my superiors."

"Of course. Follow me."

Nevala led the Romulans through the winding hallways of the _Pioneer_. She was careful to use slow, precise movements so as to not give the Romulans a reason to think she was armed. Nevala hoped that the Doctor had something more conclusive for the other Captain, but if he didn't, then hopefully his scans would be enough to convince Pa'tel.

"This is our Sickbay, where we are keeping the corpse of a member of the boarding party that attacked the R-827." When Pa'tel saw the him, he cursed loudly in Romulan. "I like to think of him as the Juggernaut."

"That would be apt, Captain. Uh, we believe that this man and at least three others like him slaughtered your crew. They were wearing an extremely energy-resistant armor. Only combined fire on the part of our SAR team managed to bring this fellow down. Even still, the Juggernaut by himself killed two of them, and one of our crewman is going to need a prosthetic arm. We'd be willing to share any tactical data we've recovered. Also, let me express how sorry I am for the losses you've taken."

"Yes," Pa'tel said, shaken. "And thank you for trying to find survivors."

"Captain, I've analyzed the optical device over his eye. It contains some very advanced identification software, as well as multiple vision modes, and what appears to be a connection to his gun. I sent that down to Lt. Evens, our tactics officer, to confirm that theory."

"I'm willing to pardon your intrusion into the Neutral Zone based on your actions against these aggressors. But I am going to need answers, Nevala."

"Such as?" she asked.

"This is a long way from Federation territory. What are you doing here?"

Nevala saw no logic in lying to Pa'tel. "The _Pioneer_ group is here to apprehend a fugitive who stole an _Akira_-class cruiser. He was last in the Delta Serpentis system."

Recognition flashed across Pa'tel's eyes. "Kale!" he hissed.

"You know him?" Nevala asked, surprised.

"I know of him. About three weeks ago, a bandit calling himself Kale began striking our outposts and convoys, raiding them for supplies. Seven _Norexan_ ships were destroyed and one _D'deridex_ warbird was damaged, in all. Now we can add this to Kale's long list of transgressions against the Romulan people. Captain, on behalf of the Romulan Star Empire, I extend myself and my ships to you to track down this butcher."

"Before you start swearing allegiances, I suggest you look at what this man was carrying."

"Kenneth Price," Connors said.

"What?"

"His name is Private First Class Kenneth Price, serial number 00 0658 003, blood type AB."

"How do you know that, doctor?"

Connors held up two rectangular pieces of metal. "Identification tags, similar to the old Earth military."

"Thank you. That, however, poses more questions that I would like answered," Nevala said. She activated the sickbay's viewer, summoning up an image of Lt. Evens and his lone crewman, who was stuck holding the monstrosity that she had deposited earlier.

"Got company, I see. Okay, well good. Captain I was just about to contact you. What you see before you is a precision instrument of death, a weapon that until now, has been limited to science fiction writing."

"Get on with it, el-tee! This beast is heavy," the crewman whined.

Evens rolled his eyes. "It's a gauss rifle ma'am. Magnetic weapons! This has never even been attempted before." Evens barely contained the excitement in his voice. Nevala didn't pepper the man with questions, as he was sure to answer all the ones formulating in her mind with his explanation. "It uses a series of powerful electro-magnets contained in a sheath of some shielded material, to accelerate a 12-millimeter projectile in excess of 6200 feet per second. I tell ya, Captain, this thing could tear a bulkhead in two, and you wouldn't hear nothing but the sound of the rounds impacting on it. I'm working on developing a countermeasure for it, but it'll be rough."

"I did find some flaws with it though. See, there's a tiny computer/camera slung under the primary barrel that relays a crosshair to the non-EM shielded monocular. Without it, it'd be very difficult to aim this puppy. Also, as you can tell, the large amount of ammunition needed, and the power supply, and the accelerator tube take up so much space, it has to be strapped to the forearm to use. Very awkward in a confined space, and limits the field of fire. It's scary, but not in undefeatable. I could cook up some electromagnetic pulse grenades that'd take out the targeting system."

"I would like those available for our next encounter."

"I'll hop right to it, Captain. Evens out."

"And I will be returning to my ship, Capt. Nevala, if that is alright with you. Notify when you are ready to finally track that worthless pirate Kale down." He nodded in salute. The sickbay was filled with dull green columns of light, then Pa'tel and his men disappeared. With a parting look at Kenneth Price, Nevala made for the bridge to relieve her first officer, stuck there since their breaching of the Neutral zone.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 06:50

Shenar was glad to be replaced by the Captain, Nevala sensed, although he seemed loathe to admit it. The Andorian First Officer had reluctantly gone back to his quarters, leaving Nevala with the almost exhausted 1st Shift. Since life on a starship didn't include a change in lighting to go with the sun, it felt like perpetual early morning/afternoon. The blackness of space also made to help blur time for non-Vulcans. She almost chided them for the sleep in their eyes, but then remembered that the _Pioneer_ bridge crew had been on-duty for over ten hours.

"Captain," Lt. Chen said quizzically. "There's a shuttle leaving the R-827. Look's like you were right about there being more than one."

"Hail coming through, audio only," Hoffman announced.

"_This is Corporal Kruger_. _You are holding one of my men, PFC Price hostage. He will be released. Now."_

"This is Captain Nevala, Federation Starfleet. Private Price is dead. As are three of my crew," Nevala said, keeping her voice even.

"_Vulcan,_" Kruger spat. He must have been very well trained if he could pick her species out from her name. "_You will return Price's body to us._"

"Is this guy nuts or what?" Chen said, laughing. "We only have him out gunned 600-to-1."

The viewscreen sprang to life, revealing an un-helmeted Kruger. Like Price, he wore his hair shaved on the sides and a buzzed stubble on top. Also like Price, he was simply massive in terms of sheer muscle. The look on his face as he scanned around the bridge, spying Nevala, seemed to radiate hatred.

"_You have six minutes to comply, Vulcan_."

"My name is Nevala. And you are in no position to be demanding anything. Surrender and tell us where Kale is. You will not be harmed, I can assure you

"_The CTA does not negociate with murderers!" _Kruger shouted.

"That is an ironic word choice coming from you, when the organization you claim to be with destroyed an entire Starbase. This is your last chance to surrender."

Kruger smiled, and the bridge crew unanimously felt unnerved by that. "_Funny. I was about to offer you the same choice. Continue on this path, Vulcan, and you'll be in so deep over those pointy ears of yours that not all the ships in the Federation can save you. Private! Cut the channel and jump out._"

"They're powering up their warp drive. Should we follow, ma'am?"

"No. They are just trying to divert our attention away. Have the _Spirt_ and the _Trailblazer_, and three of the Romulan warbirds follow it. Lay in a course for Iconia, maximum warp. Mr. Hoffman, contact Capt. Pa'tel, and inform him of our true destination. Please try to keep us on the outside of the system, Lt. Chen; We don't want to inform Kale of our presence."

"Aye, ma'am. Setting course for Iconia."

Pa'tel clenched his teeth when Nevala delivered her plan to him, as he had wanted to help vaporize the men responsible for the deaths of those 1000+ Romulans. However, the tactical side of the captain made him see that it was indeed a diversion to draw away the joint force.

Nevala sat in her command chair and watched as the stars seemed to stretch and elongate as the _Pioneer_ slipped into warp. With just over twenty minutes until the ships reached the Iconian Sector, the two starship captains discussed their plan to capture Kale.

It would be simple, at least in theory. Blending elements of her original plan, Nevala and her team of infiltrators would transport over to the _P'Tarma_ and fly under cloak until they reached the _USS Remembrance_/_CTD Maverick_. Then, using a low-profile recon shuttle, they would get close enough and implement the original capture that Nevala had devised.

That left the question of who to pick for this mission. Crewman Capella sprung to mind. Seeing how well he had handled himself on the R-827, it wouldn't be a stretch for him to go undercover. She had heard from passing conversations that he was able to do accurate vocal imitations. Also, he was trained in subterfuge. Nevala scanned her PADD for more similarly qualified personnel. She would need mostly females to gain the trust of her male quarry.

Ensign Jayne Fitzpatrick, _Pioneer's_ third-shift navigator, had several years of training at the Titan School of the Preforming Arts before entering Starfleet Academy. She had also been the star of several holo-plays before Nevala had received command of the ship. That experience in adopting alternate personas would be invaluable.

Crewman Cassandra Vette was the only other female crew member who was attractive enough and could deceive convincingly based on past training. At that, it was somewhat negative; Vette had been in the Maquis during the Dominion War, and infiltrated several Federation bases to obtain weapons for the illegal group. If she could do that...

"Captain Nevala, there's something that's been bothering me all day," Lt. Chen said from the helm.

"What, Lieutenant?"

"Well, it's just that, those armored soldiers on the station, their weapons, the ship-based platforms that destroyed all those Romulan ships..."

"Go on, spit it out Wu," Hoffman said.

"They had to get those weapons and armor from somewhere, and an _Akira_ simply doesn't have a replicator big enough to make them. Even piecemeal. And since the _Remembrance _was seemingly refitted, they'd need a station to do it. Where did a rogue officer get a drydock?"

Nevala didn't have an answer for him. A crewman who was preforming maintenance on the starboard turbolift controls had a slightly chilling answer that immediately made Chen regret his question.

"Maybe he built it."

If Kale had gone planet side, and built himself as the ruler of a colony, then this would make the Federation's retrieval mission exponentially more difficult. He would have fortified his position heavily, and it would be messy to get him out. This mission so far had been nothing but a series of complications.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Stardate 59344.7 [27 September 2381, 07:16 Earth Time, far away from Iconia

It was far worse then the crew had imagined. The initial sensor readings taken of the planet had shown a mass of stations orbiting it, though the exact number was yet to be determined. Even more unsettling was the presence of a small fleet of ships; old _New Orleans_-class cruisers from the early 2340s, a number of _Miranda_-class ("_Miranda_s!" Mattis had exclaimed. "Those haven't been in service in almost a hundred years!") and at least three _Intrepid_-class light cruisers.

"This is going to make things a sight more difficult," the turbolift tech said, packing up his tools. "Best of luck to you, Captain.

"Lots of broadcasts coming from the nightside of Iconia, Captain," Hoffman said. "Sounds like news and stuff."

"Put in on, Lt. Hoffman." The planet-filled viewscreen cut to a woman and man, both in formal clothes, smiling at the camera.

"–And I'm Janice Byrons. Welcome back. In our top story tonight, the CTA Ministry of Defense has announced that a Romulan base close to our boarders was neutralized earlier today by the crew and Marines of the _CTD Maverick_. Our forces suffered minimum casualties during the battle while annihilating the Romulan defenders. Funeral services for Petty Officer 2nd Class Stewart Gibney and Crewman 3rd Class Annette Collins will be held tomorrow at midday. Also among the casualties was Private First Class Kenneth Price, who was killed by a Federation-led strike team. This weighs against 1102 enemy soldiers KIA, and fourteen Federation Starfleet crewmen. Though the loss of Terran life on both sides is regrettable, several more working cloaking devices were recovered as well as additional necessary construction materials for the Navy. Now over Jim with the sports."

"Thanks Janice! The Zoneball Championship games are heating up, with the Icon Ravens taking an early lead today over the Kale County Vigilantes. I'm sure Magistrate Kale wasn't too happy about that! The Vigilantes lost their starting center for the rest of the Championship and possible next season due to a broken jaw and several ripped tendon. This puts their entry in the Final Four in doubt, as well as potentially jeopardizing their stranglehold over the Western League."

"Sounds like someone's got a case of the Tholians," Janice Byrons said, and although the meaning was lost on the Federation crew watching the event, both newscasters chuckled at the remark.

"Ah, that was a good one," Janice said, shaking her head. "This has been the Evening Report, only on the Icon Broadcasting Channel. Once again, I'm Janice Byrons, and for everyone here at IBC News, good night."

"The whole planet must be completely looney," Lt. Evens said from the Tactics station, having finished his examination of the weapon. "A madman founded a society full of people as nuts as he is."

"And we will have to retrieve him from there," Nevala said as a recruiting ad started, showing a group of armored men, similar to the forces that had been at the R-827, but normal sized, standing shoulder to shoulder in a troop bay of some sort, the only light provided by a single red bulb.

"_There comes a time in every human's life when he asks_ _himself, 'Do I have what it takes?'" _The bay was suddenly filled with bright light and the camera panned to an open door overlooking a small planet. Two at a time, the troops jumped out into the pull of the atmosphere. The camera followed one of the men, and his face morphed to that of a young man standing outside a building with 'Recruiting Center' on a sign above it.

"_Well? Do you?"_

The final few seconds of footage cut to the same young man, only this time in an all black uniform saluting a flag. It faded out to the words 'Semper Invictus' and the narration. "_The Colonial Marines only accept the best. Take your place among the greatest warriors in this or any other star system today."_

"Lt. Hoffman, inform the _P'Tarma _that I will be arriving by shuttlepod shortly. I believe we need beam down to the planet and further observe. Also, have these crewmen report to the Shuttlebay 1." Nevala handed her PADD to the comm officer and left the bridge with Lt. Cmdr. Suarez in charge.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

[Surface, Unknown City. 07:39

Her father, being half-human, had told little Nevala the best way find something out was to go and take a look for yourself. And the best way to do that here was to infiltrate the city and find Kale's whereabouts from the inhabitants. Nevala's capture team wore clothes that had been replicated based on transmissions from the television channels, and the only equipment they carried were the emergency transporter armbands, and a comm-badge.

It was black where they materialized, in an uninhabited ally between buildings. The only light was coming from street lamps that looked out of place in the small, developing city. The streets from what Nevala could see were deserted.

"Is everyone alright?"

"Yes ma'am, looks like we're all here in one piece," Capella answered.

"And just what in the hell are YOU doing here?" a voice from behind them demanded to know. All four of them whipped around to face one of armored soldiers. This one, too, was normal sized, and instead of a gauss rifle and helmet, he was wearing a patrol cap and had a pistol of some sort strapped to his leg. It wasn't drawn, but one hand rested on the grip of the sidearm.

"Well?" he said when nobody responded. "It's after curfew. Why are y'all out so late?"

Nevala fought the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. At least he hadn't seen them beaming down. But now she had to find a reasonable excuse for this overly built soldier, a product of a society that had thus far shown every inclination of shooting first and never asking questions. Fortunately, Capella was able to jump in.

"We're uh, from Kale County," he said. Capella gave a truly winning smile. "Here to see, the uh, Vigilantes play. Even if they are having a case of the Tholians."

The soldier glared at him, then cracked a smile. "Oh sure! Yah, I got a brother that plays for the team. Third-string left side. Maybe you know him, Vic Swanson?"

"Third-string left side. That's...nice," Capella said.

"Well, yah, he ain't been playing much this season. Adams and Metzger have been pretty dominating. You sure picked a bad time to travel, hey. Kale County's too far away to start here late. Anyway. Got a place to stay?"

"No, actually," Nevala said.

"Right then. I'll escort you to the nearest hotel. Don't wanna have to go thorough this process again, know what I mean?"

"Thank-you."

"Don't think you'll get a room though," Swanson said, leading Nevala, Capella, Fitzpatrick and Vette through the streets. "It's pretty booked here, what with the games and all."

Almost all the rooms of the Rebel Inn were taken, as the soldier had suggested, but the owner said he'd be more than happy to accommodate a few more Vigilantes fans. Capella thanked Swanson for bringing them to the hotel, and retrieved a small plastic card which must have functioned as a key.

"...doesn't seem to be such a bad place," Capella was saying as he lugged the sole travel case containing spare clothes, comm-badges, and their ETBs.

"Yeah," Fitzpatrick retorted. "Except that they don't seem to have any problem with massacring a starbase to acquire some equipment."

"That's true." Capella slid the keycard into the lock of room number 5-K. It was small, and only had one bed and a couch, but it was immaculately clean. Fitzpatrick flopped down on the bed. "Just so everybody knows, Ensign Fitzpatrick and I are married, and you and the Captain are my sisters. Don't give me any looks, it was the only way I could explain why I was with three other women."

"You are proving yourself a valuable asset to this mission, crewman," Nevala said. She handed out PADDs to everyone, explaining them as their targets. "We shall begin our reconnaissance tomorrow."

"I think I'll start by checking out that Zoneball, or whatever it is," Capella said.

"Uh-huh," Vette said sarcastically. It was well known amongst the crew that Greg Capella was a sports enthusiast.

"Hey! Sometimes the best way to get inside somebody's head is to see what kind of sport they play."

"Keep telling yourself that, Capella."

"Who sleeps where?" Fitzpatrick asked, bringing a halt to his defense of sports and red to Capella's face.

"I will take the floor. You ladies can split the couch and the bed."

"Oh come now, Capella! It simply wouldn't right if room service came in and the loyal husband wasn't beside his wife, now would it?"

Capella shot Vette a wicked look. "It wouldn't be proper. I'd feel uncomfortable sharing the same bed as one of my superiors."

Lt. Fitzpatrick laughed. "Come on, Crewman. I'll sleep on the edge if it will make you feel better." Reluctantly, Capella stripped his shirt off and slid under the covers.

"Well I guess that just leaves you and me, Captain," Vette started, but Nevala had already fallen asleep on the couch. Capella snorted in laughter, then turned the room's lights off, leaving Cassandra Vette to try and find a semi-soft spot on the floor.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Stardate 59347.93 [28 September, 2381. 17:01 Earth Time/08:53 Local

Nevala was awoken by the insistent pushing of Ensign Fitzpatrick at her shoulder. She was trying to keep her voice calm and level, but it was layered with urgency.

"Captain, for God's sake, get up!"

"What is it, Ensign?"

Fitzpatrick pointed at the wall mounted television. Apparently, Capella had been trying to find the game's starting time on the news. Nevala cleared the sleep from her eyes as they focused on a picture of a face that had been etched into her memory: Thomas J. Kale. He looked the same as in the picture from the launch of the _Undaunted_, a little older maybe, but he was wearing a black uniform with red trim. There was a massive crowd surrounding the platform he was standing on.

"Citizens of the Colonial Terran Authority," Kale began. His voice was quivering with rage. "Only hours ago, a patrol discovered and was attacked by a Romulan-Federation strike force inbound to remove us from our new home. Once again, we were forced by the Romulans to spill human blood in the name of preserving our independence."

"We have tried everything to avoid conflict with the Romulans. They pushed into our space, and we gave it to them. They confined us to this planet, and we obeyed! They attacked us, and we did not RETALIATE!"

"No more, I tell you! No more will we be ground under the oppressive heel of the Federation. No more will we live in fear of Romulan attacks! No more will we sit on our asses while aliens tell us what to do and how to do it! I have ordered the orbital shipyards to begin producing at full strength. The Terran race as been subjected to many cowardly and unwarranted attacks since its first steps into space. Even when we try to mind our own business, here, on Iconia, the Federation and its allies come to oppress us! And I will no longer let that HAPPEN! If the galaxy wants a war, we'll give them a war, the likes of which they've never seen!"

Nevala thought the crowd was going to rush the stage and unseat Kale from the throne of his faux-dictatorship, but a massive cheer surged through the crowd, and through the hotel. Everywhere around them, and from the television speakers, people chanted 'hail Kale!' and screamed for blood.

"They destroyed the _Spirt_. And the _Trailblazer_," Capella said, shoulders sagging. "We're done. Trapped on a planet ruled by someone who's like some hellish blend of Paxton (note: Enterprise, Terra Prime arc) and Hitler.

"That doesn't mean they got the _Pioneer_, Capella. Or the _P'Tarma_." Vette patted him on the shoulder.

"But it does mean we have to work twice as hard to bring Kale to justice, Crewman Vette. Kale seems bent on starting a war with the Romulan Empire and the Federation...and he has the means to do it. We must stop him before he does."

A/N: So I hope y'all are liking this so far. Though the lack of reveiews contradicts that...come on! just tap that little blue button if ya read it.


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